C'est La Vie
by Veinne
Summary: 'Snark, cynicsm and an undeniably selfish heart, all in one person. Really,' Holly thought sarcastically, 'what more could people want in Artemis Fowl? ' Drabbles.
1. Stalker

**Hey, those looking for the original first chapter, it's been made into a separate oneshot called Missed Opportunities because I got a complaint from a reader that apparently, it's "way too long for a drabble".**

**Disclaimer: Not Eoin Colfer.**

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"Hey Kelp, want to join us for a drink and maybe a game of Truth or Dare later after duty?" someone shouts. Grub thinks it might be Private Verbil. It takes a moment for him to realise that Chix is talking to Trouble and not him.

Figures, really. Grub wonders why everyone always seem to take to serious old Trouble so much and not him. Pfft, like they know anything about how _fabulous_ Grub is.

Trouble Kelp and Chix Verbil have never gotten along much, but Grub supposes that Trubs doesn't have any _real_ friends to mingle with. Chix probably just wants more people to drink with. Pity too, Grub might've actually consented if they'd bothered to ask him.

Truth or Dare was actually a Mud Man game, but since it was relatively harmless compared to other games, it'd been observed by fairies and eventually adopted by fairy culture. Well, it wasn't _harmless_, per se, but only about five in six-thousand games Mud Man games were harmless (or so the research says), so Grub doesn't mind.

Major Trouble Kelp nods, and Grub frowns momentarily. Grub, after all, _is_ the more fabulous and outgoing brother. That silly sprite Verbil should be _begging_ for him to join them for drinks, not asking his monotonous old brother.

Grub decides to follow them to the fairy bar down the street from the Police Plaza. Grub likes to think that even if Trouble is _biologically_ the older brother, Grub does tend to be maturer by mental development and therefore should take care of Trouble.

That is, unless Trouble is in actual trouble (get it? Grub has such a wonderful sense of humour), then Grub would gladly sit back and relax. After all, Trouble _never_ seems to get reprimanded by their dear mother or any of the higher-ups. A good scolding would do him good, Grub thinks.

After their shift ends, Grub sneakily uses his stealthy ninja skills to follow the large group of LEP officers down the street. In fact, the entire floor of people seem to be there, except him! They probably just weren't able to deal with his wondrous skills. Jealous, the lot of them. Grub sniffs in disdain at having to deal with these green-eyed creatures.

Even if tomorrow is a public holiday in Haven and therefore the team is at perfect liberty to have alcoholic beverages, Grub can't help but be a little disappointed in their lack of integrity. Really, think about what the citizens will think, seeing the best of the LEP (well, Grub is undoubtedly the best, but they come close) staggeringly drunk in a bar?

He is startled from his contemplation at a shady corner in the bar when they start their first round of Truth or Dare. Grub leans forward subconsciously. Perhaps he could get some dirt on the other officers, earn himself a promotion or something.

"Major Kelp, truth or dare?" Verbil asks, with an impish grin.

"Truth," Trouble is already a tad bit drunk. Grub knows that if he'd been a hundred percent sober, Trouble would no doubt have chosen dare just to prove how utterly _daring_ he is.

Much too rash and irresponsible to be promoted to Major, Grub thinks. Probably stole that promotion from right under his feet. To be sure, Grub would first have to be promoted to Captain and then Lieutenant before arriving at the rank of Major, but that doesn't matter. Trubs has always gotten the undeserved attention that Grub should've received.

"Would you rather be fired from the LEP, or have ol' Grubs kicked out?" Verbil asks, leaning forward with anticipation. Grub snorts. Evidently Private Verbil's lack of intellect was the reason he'd been demoted from Captain. Grub is about to down another drink when-

"Be fired from the LEP," Trouble answers immediately after recovering from a drunken stupor. Grub blinks. Oh.

Private Verbil leans in to whisper something in his brother's ear with a smirk. Grub wishes he could read lips, or that lip-reading had been included among the gift of tongues. That would undoubtedly be a useful skill. The ancient fairies were all so silly and stupid compared to Corporal Grub Kelp.

"Though if he did something stupid and got into the mess himself," Trouble suddenly says loudly, as Verbil sends shifty looks towards his table. Grub gets the distinct feeling that his sneaky cover has been blown. "I wouldn't save his skinny butt for all the gold in the ransom fund."

Grub frowns. Big brothers are supposed to protect little brothers! He disregards what he says earlier about mental maturity. Trouble is older _biologically_, and science never lies!

He's going to tell Mummy about this. Maybe he'll leave out the part where Trouble actually said he _would_ save his butt.

* * *

**Chix is referred to here as Private Verbil (and at times just Verbil) because it's in Grub's point of view, and they don't exactly get along. Grub's a bit too whiny and Chix is a bit too trouble-making. This is set at the point when Trouble's been promoted to Major but Root hasn't died yet.**

**Also, didn't expect this to turn out this long either.**


	2. Sentiment

**Disclaimer: I'm not Irish, rich and a genius with words. In short, I do not own Artemis Fowl.**

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Mulch Diggums is not a sentimental dwarf.

He doesn't care for many, and unless there was a bountiful reward in return for his services, he wouldn't bother giving them the time of day. He didn't even have that very affectionate feelings for his partner-in-non-crime, Doodah Day.

Well, he likes Day well enough to work with him (though to be sure, Mulch doesn't have to like people much to work with them), but he certainly would not bother with saving his sorry butt at three o' clock in the morning.

He would slam the door in his face, take a good nap (preferably until two in the afternoon) and calmly inquire after his partner's health perhaps the next year or so. After all, Doodah Day is a pretty snarky ex-criminal. A bit too much like Mulch to like. As his old granny used to say, before she'd died painfully in the washroom, _opposites attract!_

There is a short list of people that he cares about well enough to help out without pay or any form of rewards (but just because he would be willing to in a dire situation doesn't mean he wouldn't _ask_, after all). They could probably be counted on one hand. He'd hate to admit it, but the majority of them seem to be on the LEP.

It's funny, really, how many cops an ex-criminal is capable of befriending. The dwarves at the bar would make fun of him, but typically Mulch Diggums does not let the world know about his list.

It's much easier getting the odd job here and there (okay, maybe he isn't an _ex_-criminal, per se) when the dwarves believe his nonsensical lies about being the only dwarf in existence to ever outsmart the infamous Captain Holly Short _and_ Commander Julius "Beetroot".

And so it is believable evidence in regard to Mulch Diggum's list of friends and the care he holds for them when there is a knock at his door in three o'clock in the morning, and instead of slamming the door, this is the conversation that transpires:

"Foaly, what in Frond's name are you doing at my door at two in the bloody morning?"

"It's three. But listen, Holly's in trouble."

"Let me go get my pants."

"Please do, my eyes are scarred for eternity."

"Shut it, donkey."

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**I love Mulch.** **Also, finally a chapter short enough to be considered a drabble! Huzzah.**


	3. Hacker

**Disclaimer: AF is owned by the one and only Eoin Colfer, not me.**

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"Hey Holly, I was wondering if you were free this Friday night?" Commander Kelp's voice sounded over her fairy communicator. The static buzzed loudly, making it hard to concentrate. "I know a good bar down the street from Police Plaza."

Holly frowned. The reception on the fairy communicators usually was great, no matter how deep underground Haven was.

"Trouble, the last date we went on, we were both bodily thrown out of a crunchball game. I don't think it's going to work," Holly said. "Besides, I heard you were ogling Lili Frond the other day in the office."

"It's not a date," Trouble said persuasively. "There'll be a bunch of other elves there too, just regular LEPrecon officers. Come on, be a good sport, Holly."

"Well..." Holly said hesitantly, pondering it over. "Maybe? I'll have to check in with Root-"

Suddenly, the line cut and Holly was left with a suspiciously static buzzing in her ear. She tapped her foot, rubbing her temples in frustration.

Her neighbours wondered vaguely who the lunatic in the next flat was, to be screaming so shrilly.

* * *

The next Sunday, Artemis answered to an impatient knock at the door. He stalled by the hallway, wondering warily if he should call for Butler instead. After all, you never know when assassins might show up.

"Artemis Fowl, you open up the door this instant!"

Well, not an assassin then. Or perhaps it was? Captain Holly Short's intentions certainly weren't friendly this time around. Artemis eventually decided that not answering would lead to more serious repercussions, and opened the door cautiously.

"What were you doing messing with my_ fairy communicator_?" she screamed, her face turning an interesting shade of puce. Artemis wondered vaguely if her facial colour could change as much as Root's used to.

"You don't know that it was me that did that," he said, taking a subconscious step back away from the fuming elf.

"_Bullshit_, Artemis! Absolute, D'arvitting-_bullshit_!" she shouted, flailing her arms around and throwing a strong punch at his shoulder. Artemis rubbed it, groaning. This was going to bruise. "I should _never_ have given you a fairy communicator to toy around with!"

"Ah, but how else would we stay in touch, Captain?" he asked, smirking. Might as well go out with a bang, he figures.

"D'arvit! You _skunkbag_, Artemis Fowl! You green-eyed, irritating_ skunkbag!_"

"I wasn't jealous," he said, frowning. Trouble Kelp was way too _stocky_ and too much of a goody-two-shoes for Holly. He was doing it for her sake, really.

Holly snorted.

"I wasn't!" he insisted indignantly, glaring at Holly. She'd grown out her crew cut a little so that it touched the top part of her ear, he realised. It looked pretty on her, he thought.

"Whatever lets you sleep at night, Arty," she said, in a sickeningly sugared voice, her dangerously glinting eyes the only sign of her anger.

"At least I don't ogle Lili Frond in the office," he said smugly.

Butler comes down the stairs, wondering about the commotion, and is greeted by the sight of Artemis swearing as he nursed his bleeding nose.

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**Please point out all mistakes. Unnecessary flames will be snorted at and extinguished.**


	4. Clarification

**Disclaimer: My initials aren't E.C., and I'm certainly not Irish.**

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"Artemis..." Holly said hesitantly, crossing her arms as if to protect herself from unseen dangers.

"Yes, Captain?" Artemis answered innocently, blinking as he struggled to see under the bright lights in Haven. He was more used to the natural light from the sun than this artificial brightness underground.

"You know, we never really discussed your... _behaviour_ when you were suffering from the Complex," she said, frowning as she rubbed her arms.

"Ah," was all he said, as he leaned back in his chair. He fervently hoped that Foaly or Mulch might abruptly burst into the room rudely like they always did and end this awkward conversation.

"Well?" she said, her impatience shining through her frayed nerves. The only time Artemis had seen her being patient was when he was a bundle of nerves during the Complex and she would stay patiently by his bedside, coaxing him gently out from his shell.

"Well what, Captain?" he asked, putting on a calm facade he hoped she would not be able to see through. "Which part of my behaviour during the Complex do you wish to discuss? The obsession with numbers, the paranoia?"

Holly snorted. He wondered when he had gotten so horrible at lying, or perhaps it was just Holly that could see through his neatly-strung lies.

"I want to talk about your other personality, Orion," she said flatly, deciding to humour his clear avoidance of the topic. "And his obsession with me."

"He wasn't _obsessed_ with you," Artemis said, trying to stall her. "He just called you _fair maiden_ perhaps a few times-"

"No, he called me fair maiden three thousand and fifty-four times. I'll get straight to the point here, Artemis, since you clearly tend to veer off topic," she snapped. "Orion said you shared his feelings, and after all, Orion is a _part_ of you."

"Yes, a side of me that I tended to cast off into the corner since he's practically useless, as you pointed out during the siege," he said.

"D'arvit, Artemis, _answer the question_," she said emphatically, gripping on his arm roughly. That was probably going to bruise.

"You didn't ask any questions, you just stated a fact," he clarified. A vein pulsed on Holly's temple and he hurried to finish the rest of his sentence. "But yes, Orion did say that I shared his... _feelings_ for you."

"And is it true?" she pressed, though her face was expressionless, as though she was repressing all of her feelings.

"_Partially_," he said hesitantly, rubbing the back of his neck. He took a deep breath and braced himself for a long speech. "Orion is a hopelessly romantic, hormonal, emotional part of me. Essentially, he's the parts of me I've always pushed aside because I thought they were rather useless."

"When the Complex worsened and he surfaced, he was kind of.. stretching his feet a little, you know? Throwing a romantic flair on everything. And you were the nearest female around, and I don't know if you've figured this out, but you're sort of attractive," he said calmly. That was the way to deal with this, he told himself. Cool and collected.

"So naturally, he romanticised everything and turned a severely dangerous situation into some twisted version of a sappy romance novel," he said blankly, removing all emotion from his voice.

"I'm sorry if he hurt your feelings, Holly, I really am," at this, he let his sincerity seep through. He really _was_ sorry, after all. Orion has screwed up so many organised and tucked away feelings.

"So what did he mean when he said that you shared his feelings?" she said, with similar blankness. Fronddamnit, she would _not_ stay away from that topic, would she? Tuck away the emotions, Artemis. Tuck them far, far away from prying elfin eyes.

Artemis hesitated a little.

"Naturally, I hold you in a highly respectful and admirable light," he said hesitantly. She brightened a little. "I suppose Orion misinterpreted that as something.. _more_."

"Orion, who is, I might remind you, a _part_ of you, misinterpreted your feelings?" she said skeptically.

"Yes," he said firmly. He thought he saw her ears droop a little, but he must've been mistaken. She can't, after all, be _disappointed_, can she?

"Oh," was all she said for a moment. "Well, see you then, Artemis. Stay out of trouble."

Artemis frowned at this abrupt ending of their conversation. Her words seemed disjointed, emotionless, as though it was just a reflex and she wasn't putting any thought in them. As he watched her retreating back, he couldn't help but wonder if he really should've lied.

Perhaps if he'd told the truth, this aching feeling in his gut would temporarily vanish.

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**Kind of irked that Colfer promised us that they'd "talk later" about Orion's affection for Holly, but in the next book Artemis is just wham, healed and there's _absolutely no _****_clarification! _Seriously.  
**


	5. Victory

**Thanks for all the reviews, including a (slightly terrifying) one from Ru-Doragon that pointed out a flaw in the title. Thank you for that! (by the way, sorry if it irks you, but I don't put strings of thoughts in quotation marks)**

**& a shoutout to Lli, who is one of the best AF fanfiction writers I have encountered! You're a great inspiration.**

**Disclaimer: Eoin Colfer I am not.**

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"E5," he said intently, leaning forward subconsciously with anticipation. Yes.. finally, after so long-

"Miss," a smirk. How infuriating.

"E6!" he shouts.

"It's my turn," open mockery now. He feels like tearing his hair out. "B4."

"...Hit," he murmurs, ducking his head to hide his shame. Oh, how the great have fallen, indeed.

He ignores the smirking face before him, the calculating eyes. There was, after all, still a chance for victory.

"E6," he said firmly, forcing himself to focus.

"Hit," a frown. He pumped his fist triumphantly- this earned an amused glance.

"Don't judge," he sticks out his tongue.

"Very mature," a roll of the eyes, but there is a glint that he recognises. The hunt is on.

Soon there is a flurry of words, eyes trained intently upon the board and minds whirring to keep up with their movements. Reverse psychology, or double reverse psychology? Possibilities, so many possibilities.

They continue on like that, glare after glare, each individual set upon winning the game, until finally-

"D7," a shout, triumphant and smug. He is tempted to say "miss" just to see his reaction, but something about the upward quirk of his opponent's lips makes him pause. There is a true, genuine smile on his opponent's face.

"Hit," he concedes, grumbling reluctantly as he shuts the board.

"Don't be a sore loser," there is a taunt.

"Shut it, criminal," he jabs, frowning.

"I'm in medical care, you really shouldn't be causing me distress like this, Foaly," the boy sitting across him tuts.

"Oh, come on! It was one game! I could totally crush you in a second," he objects, and they continue bickering as to their difference in intellect before the topic of the conversation eventually veers off somehow to the pointlessness of Battleship.

As Foaly is discussing how utterly random and luck-based Battleship really is, he notices that the boy is still smiling a little as he argues that Battleship is also a play on psychology and facial expressions. Deep inside, he crows in victory at having distracted the boy from the all-consuming Complex.

Even after five months of intensive medical care and suffering through paranoia, Multiple Personality Disorder, and obsessions with a random set of numbers, Artemis Fowl the Second still revels in winning.

And win he does.

* * *

**In which Foaly attempts to distract Artemis from the Complex by suggesting a Mud Man game, and eventually succeeds. After all, he doesn't have anything better to do in the Ops Booth. Right?**

**Reviews are always loved.**


	6. Competition

**Disclaimer: Still not an Irish author; not even male. Well, on the exterior at least. At heart I enjoy video games, mud and punching a little too much. But that's for another time.**

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Artemis turned around, willing his eyes not to stray from the door. _Don't look don't look don't look_, his mind screamed, and yet his eyes betrayed him and he found himself looking out from his peripheral vision.

_Those eyes! _They haunted his very being, those perfectly innocent eyes, blinking up at him with childish wonder. Doubt was now firmly planted in his mind. Did he really have to go?

"I have to go," he said, more to himself than to her. She blinked again, nuzzling up to his calf.

"_Don't_ _go!_" her eyes seem to say, and he felt compelled to listen, but he maintained his composure.

"I have to go see someone, Mittens," he said, frowning.

"_Are you cheating on me with another cat?_" her expression seemed to say, staring forlornly up at her master.

"No, no, not another cat," he said. "Holly does _smell_ a little like a cat though, it's odd really."

"_You are cheating on me with another cat!_" her eyes stared accusingly, hissing a little. "_What is this Holly? A Siamese? Does she have nicer fur?_"

"No, you have perfectly wonderful fur, Mittens," he said, leaning down and scratching her ear to prove his point. She purred in appreciation. "I'm certainly not cheating on you with another cat."

"_Then why won't you stay with me?" _her eyes widened a little, and Artemis scowled. Cats couldn't pout, could they? Why was his cat so bloody _difficult_?

"I haven't seen Holly in a very long while, Mittens," he told her, hands crossed. "I miss talking to her."

"_It's always Holly this and Holly that," _his cat seemed to be hissing. "_Even when that cat's not around, you still talk about her all day long!_"

"That's because she's a very good friend, Mittens," he reprimanded. "Also, she's not a cat. She's an elf. It's very different."

"Artemis? Are you talking to your cat?" a voice behind him suddenly said, and he jumped a little, whirring around.

"Of course not!" he said defensively.

"I don't see anyone else around," Holly pointed out, an amused smirk on her face. Behind him, Mittens yowled in displeasure. _Get away from him, you furless cat-_

"She's not a cat!" he shouted in frustration, stomping his way up to his room and slamming the door. D'arvit, he was going _insane! _His cat couldn't _talk! _Was this some sort of delusional aftereffect from the Complex?

The cat and the elf left in the hallway gazed at each other intently, sizing each other up.

Holly sighed. Fronddamnit, did Butler _really_ have to buy Artemis a cat of all things for his birthday?

_"I am the only cat in Artemis' life!"_ the fluffy white monstrosity seemed to be saying.

"Shut it," she retorted, using her gift of tongues to her advantage.

* * *

**I have weird dreams. End of story.**

**Reviews are loved, and criticism appreciated; though unnecessary flaming will be snorted at and extinguished.**


	7. Thorns

**Disclaimer: There can't be that many Eoin Colfers in the world. It's not a common name, is it? I assure you, I'm not one of them.**

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Artemis trudged through the gardens of Fowl Mansion, trying to keep his temper in check, cursing his mother and her sudden urge to throw a Christmas party. Being an Angeline Fowl party, the Christmas party was, of course, noisy.

Too many people, too many drinks. Even the enormous, luxurious Fowl Mansion could barely contain the amount of guests it was harbouring, but most of the guests had been kept indoors and away from the gardens, which was precisely why Artemis chose to escape outside as soon as possible.

He could always return to his room, away from the clutches of false manners and social obligations, but it would feel more like a cell than anything else. Artemis Fowl typically hated the outdoors, but tonight he would allow it to be his refuge.

His mind wandered, unbidden, to the city beneath the ground and its inhabitants. He wondered what his friends were doing as of now.

He hadn't seen them in seven months, since they'd narrowly escaped death in a lost tomb buried deep within Egypt. More than thirty weeks. Artemis groaned; he already missed the pounding adrenaline of nearing danger.

If danger was a magnet, he'd be a helpless little paper clip, irresistibly attracted to its very presence. Perhaps that is why he spends so much time with Holly. Unpredictable, violent, and certainly dangerous in her own right.

His musings are interrupted abruptly when a party guest that had wandered astray from the crowd stumbled into him, half-drunk with champagne and sporting a ridiculous grin.

"'ello there!" she giggled, throwing an arm over his shoulder in what she might've drunkenly interpreted as a comradely gesture. "You're the host's son, aren't you? A silly girl's name or something. Athena?"

Artemis sniffed in disdain, but he knew he was inclined to behave politely, for his mother's sake. Even if she was too stone drunk to remember anything tomorrow morning anyway.

"Artemis, actually," he said. "I was named after my father, it's also a general term meaning a hunter."

"A girl's name is a girl's name, 'rtemis," she giggled again. Artemis wondered if her vocal chords were impaired. "Stop deny-_ing_ it."

"It is occasionally used as a girl's name, yes," he said, his tone even but his expression implying severe condescension.

"Don't matter to me," she says, looping her arm around his. _Does_, he wants to correct, but he restrains himself. "Thought you looked rather attractive actually, but you ended up sulking in a corner the entire night. So _boring_."

Artemis wants to shoot back a retort, but decides that she is not worth his time. Just as he is constructing a well-thought polite lie to get away, she un-loops her arms from his and hurls into a nearby bush.

_How pleasant_, he thinks, his nose wrinkling in disgust. She stares at him in confusion for a bit after hurling, as though trying to remember what exactly he was doing in front of her, before shaking her head and stumbling away.

Artemis is about to walk back to the mansion to have a good night's sleep when he notices the bush that the drunken girl had puked in. Walking closer subconsciously, he fingers the berries in his hands but accidentally pricks himself.

He studies the slowly bleeding wound on his fingertip with odd disinterest.

It is a holly bush. There are a dozen of decorations based on hollies in his home, among others, tonight. He knows, because he counted them while trying to avoid a couple aristocrats intent upon discovering the true amount of wealth the Fowl family possessed.

Hollies were generally quite toxic to humans, causing diarrhoea and other ailments when ingested; but it was also very important and vital to birds and other wildlife. Artemis cannot help but wonder at the irony of the situation.

A human, no doubt, but also a fowl. A painful necessity, perhaps?

It is a bad metaphor, but as his hands close around a fallen holly branch, he ignores his bleeding hand and smiles.

* * *

**Yes, I'm aware it's a bad metaphor, but I read an article on holly bushes and I just couldn't _resist_. Anyway, new chapter, yay! **

**Reviews are loved; criticism appreciated; unnecessary flames will be extinguished. **


	8. Memories

**To the many (many many) points my esteemed reviewer Ru-Doragon brought up:**

**a. Yes, some of my chapters are in third person present tense on purpose.**

**b. It's Mittens, not Muffin, and Butler named her just to irk Artemis.**

**c. Updated the summary to suit your liking.**

**d. Sorry, my disjointed, random inspiration doesn't take requests. ;) (and I have an unfortunate penchant for angst fics. I like fluff, it's just that I enjoy other snippets of humour and tragedy more)**

**Disclaimer: The day I own Artemis Fowl is the day pigs fly.**

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"Major Short, please report for duty immediately. Your help is needed," a voice emitted from her fairy communicator. She recognized it as Commander Kelp's. Trouble seemed awfully stressed.

"What's happened?" she said, her head snapping up to attention immediately as she pushed her mug of coffee away, ignoring her longing for some caffeine.

"We have a code red emergency aboveground in Central Ireland. We would appreciate the assistance," he said quickly. She could hear people running past and the beeps of a shuttle.

"Be there in a flash," she said, before cutting off the line and making a bolt for the door, sliding her fairy communicator into her pocket with ease. Her mind pounded with hypothetical scenarios.

_Escaped troll aboveground? Diggums stirring up trouble in Mud Men toilets? And perhaps, _the deepest part of her mind whispered, _another Fowl emergency? Dare I think it?_

It _was_ Central Ireland, the more logical part of Holly conceded to the emotional one, but there were plenty of cases in Central Ireland. After all, Tara was located in Ireland, so most of their Recon operations focused on rogue shuttles coming from there.

_It could be anything_, she told herself. Her heart was pounding heavily, but her training kicked in and she forced herself to focus.

Fowl emergency or not, the team wanted her for her quick thinking and cool head, not her ridiculously racing heart.

She reached the launching pad near the facility, and quickly strapped on her helmet, Foaly's voice coming to attention immediately. He was talking to another officer on the line. Trouble, Holly guessed. Foaly wasn't exactly one for comforting new Recon jocks.

"I think the situation is mostly under control, you'll just have to wait until Holly arrives and your team is good to go. You might have two inexperienced officers today, but Holly makes up for at least three of them," Foaly was saying, and her heart swelled momentarily at the compliment.

"Commander Kelp, I've arrived at the launching pad," she said formally. Trouble insisted that she addressed him by his rank every since he had received his promotion.

"Good, we're at the E9 bay, hurry up," he said authoritatively.

"What's the situation, sir?" she asked, subconsciously holding her breath as she instinctively rushed towards the letters marked E9. She didn't have to look, she knew this facility inside out.

Trouble grunted. "Twenty-three goblins hijacked a few shuttles from Tara and are terrorising some districts near Dublin. We're going to need more than a hundred wipes for this."

Holly felt disappointed, but for all the wrong reasons. The situation aboveground was horrible, but definitely not of Artemis's making. She sighed, spotting the shuttle and boarding reluctantly.

"We know it's bad, Major Short, but we've already sent several teams up and I think we'll be able to control the situation once this shuttle arrives aboveground," Trouble interrupted her thoughts, misinterpreting her sigh as something different.

"Oh, I have no doubt in the LEPrecon's abilities, sir," she said, forcing a confident grin as she strapped on her seat belt. She'd been chosen as pilot- even her worst critics could not deny that she was the best shuttle flyer the LEP had seen.

"I expect nothing but the best, Major," he replied. _He was becoming more and more like Root every day_, she thought skeptically. _Okay, maybe not entirely, but quite annoyingly gung-ho about everything._

"Anything else to add, Foaly?" she asked hopefully, taking off with practised ease and scanning her GPS tracker quickly.

"Nope, just take out those nasty goblins and wipe the Mud Men, Major," Foaly replied. "Give them a good blow to the head for me."

"Will do," she sighed, guiding the shuttle automatically past a flying piece of earth. The adrenaline was already pumping in her veins. She knew the goblins would put up an exciting fight, but she couldn't help the growing pit of disappointment in her gut.

Not for the first time in the eight months since Artemis had been wiped (_again!_), she wished that he'd just _remember__._

* * *

**Okay, okay, I'll try my best for less depressing topics next time, alright? **

**Sometimes I wonder if there's a reason I seem to write so much angst... **


	9. Abomination

**Disclaimer: I am not Eoin Colfer. Period.**

* * *

"You are an abomination," she said bluntly.

"Isn't that a little of an exaggeration?" he asked, rumpling his hair in frustration.

"No," she said flatly. "You are an abomination, and that is the end of that story."

"Look, I'm hardly an _abomination_ just because I-"

"_Eat living creatures!_" she said, stabbing her fork into the table repeatedly to make her point. He winced. That was a mahogany table imported from Italy, of the best quality.

"Holly, calm down," he persuaded, his hands held up as though in surrender. "You make your choices and I'll make mine, we hardly have to bicker like little children-"

"D'arvit, you _are_ a child!" she said, befuddled.

"Nineteen," he said irritably. "Besides, my chronological age is twenty-two. I'm a legal adult!"

"Not to fairies," she retorted. "But we're veering off the topic. This was a _living creature _once, and now it's sitting there, on your plate! How could you even _think_ about eating it? Just looking at it makes me want to puke!"

"It's already dead," he said, frowning. "It's not like digesting it would _un-dead-ify_ it."

Behold, Holly Short, the only being in existence to have prompted Artemis Fowl into using words that didn't exist.

"That's not the point!" she said, throwing her hands up in annoyance. "The point is that humans kill these innocent creatures every day without a good reason!"

"Actually, in the prehistorical ages, humans hunted animals to survive," he corrected. "Wouldn't you agree with the primal instinct to _survive_? Animals do much worse without batting an eyelash. At least humans have consciences."

"Well, humans have evolved since then!" she said, standing up and pushing her chair back (specially produced shorter for her one time when Artemis was bored). "The whole human population could easily survive on vegetation instead!"

"Could they really?" he asked skeptically, as he mind whirred to calculate the possibility. "There are over six billion people on the planet, and the consumption rate would be _unbelievably_ high, not to mention the chemicals needed to produce-"

"Shut up, Artemis, you're making my brain hurt," she said, rubbing her temples.

"What are you, the princess in _the Princess and the Pea_?" he asked skeptically. "I hardly think your brain can sustain damages so easily, even without your healing magic."

"_The Princess and the Pea_?"she asked incredulously. "What in Frond's name is that? Some Mud Girl with a vegetable fetish?"

Sighing, Artemis got up as well and tugged on her hand, leading her in the general direction of his study and ignoring her bewildered sputters.

"What's going on-?"

"Just shush," he interrupted. To be fair, Holly interrupted him on a regular basis as well, this was hardly injustice on his part.

Not long after, Holly was curled up in Artemis's armchair, listening intently as Artemis retold the story patiently, the book fetched from the dustiest section in his bookshelf and now residing in his lap.

The momentary peace did not last long; Artemis now had a lasting migraine to deal with.

"Frond almighty, that princess is a wimp. I've had to sleep in caves and ditches, but she can't even stand a _pea_?"

"She's so awfully rude about it too- if I were a princess that lost sleep over a tiny little pea, I wouldn't tell my servants about it, much less the _hostess_."

"D'arvit, and this prince! Even if by some chance of fate that a princess could be tested by her lasting insomnia, this prince is just going to go '_W__hoop, well, I guess she's a real princess. Let me propose!_'? And the princess is actually saying _yes?_ How long have they known each other, one night-?!"

"For Frond's sake, Holly, shut up!"

Hearing all the shouting, Butler walked into the dining room to ask them if they needed something, only to see it completely deserted. _What a waste of a perfectly-cooked steak._

* * *

**There, that was fun to type.**

**Reviews adored, criticism appreciated and unnecessary flames extinguished.**


	10. Envy

**Disclaimer: In another life, perhaps I will be hailed as a successful author. In this, I'm afraid not.**

* * *

Lili Frond was tired of being called a bimbo. So maybe she was gorgeous, rich and a little spoiled. She'll concede that she was used to luxury and wasn't afraid of flaunting the assets she knew she had.

But she wasn't an airhead _bimbo_.

She passed her examinations! So maybe she gently brushed against the line of passing and failing, and she bribed the examiners a little and mentioned her lineage to boost her results, but she _legitimately_ passed her LEP examinations.

She knew she wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, and indeed not the quickest on her feet, but she deserved better than the treatment she received. She wasn't some docile creature that heeded all the other officers' commands.

She was sick of being swamped with _other officers' paperwork_ every weekend (so maybe she dumps them all on a secretary afterward, they still shouldn't do that), she was sick of fetching coffee for Kelp and his buddies, she was especially sick of _Captain Holly Short_.

She's known Holly for quite a long while now, considering they'd been in the same school since she could remember. It was easy last time, of course. All the teachers _adored_ Lili and thought she was the best thing that had happened since those goblin twins attracted crowds of reporters to the school.

It all changed when they entered into the same academy, to join the LEP.

Lili had done it out of spite towards her parents, who had flatly told her that her fate was, essentially, to become a trophy wife. Of course, Lili was good at sweet talk- not half a month later, they were telling everyone that would listen how _proud_ they were that Lili was taking a step towards being an independent young elf.

It'd been Holly's ambition since Lili could remember. Every time in class when the teacher inquired as to their ambitions, as per required by the syllabus, Holly's hand would be the first to shoot up.

"I want to be in the LEP, ma'am!" she would shout enthusiastically. "I'll kick all the criminals' butts!"

Lili always lurked silently in the corner during these sessions, willing herself to melt into the shadows and not be in the limelight for once, watching silently as the teacher admonished Holly for her language and subtly imply that she might have trouble entering the LEP (_screw_ their sexist views!).

She had always admired Holly Short for her determination, but what struck her most about the elfin captain at that time was how utterly confident she was of herself. Lili Frond couldn't deny it- she was jealous. Lili was a little lost, and Holly Short was always so _sure_ of what she wanted in life.

Perhaps that was why, that when her parents claimed she had no other purpose in life than to parade around on a rich elf's arm, that she'd stolen Holly's life story and burst out that she wanted to join the LEP academy.

It did not, of course, turn out the way she'd planned.

On the first day of training, Holly had kicked another trainee's butt during their first hand-to-hand combat lesson and earned praise from the teacher. Lili had complained of a broken nail and earned a disapproving glare.

During flight lessons, Vinyáya (Lili is convinced she is biased towards Holly) pushes Holly past her limit but gives her the highest grade possible. When Lili gets her results, she sees a "passable" stamped on top and blows a fuse.

After the practical and theory examinations, even with Lili's boosted results, she is a whole _twenty-seven_ placings behind Holly Short. There were fifty-two freaking fairies that had been accepted into the academy that year!

And so when Captain Holly Short is offered a d'Arvitting _promotion_ to the rank of Major, and _turns down the offer_, a promotion that Lili has been _craving_ for, she snaps.

Hearing this _horrifying_ piece of news, she storms into the coffee room, screams into her hands and breaks the handle of a coffee mug. A fellow officer stumbles in and upon seeing the ever-docile Lili Frond holding a mug-less handle with a deranged expression on her face, backs away slowly.

A few months later, the same officer asks her out.

Perhaps Lili accepted for selfish reasons, agreed to go out with the officer (then already Commander) because she'd heard of his three failed dates with Holly Short, because she wanted to be _better_ than her at something.

Perhaps their relationship started off on a bad foot, with her ill-managed envy and anger boiling in her heart, but it had turned out pretty well, Lili thought.

Trouble Kelp treated her like she was an intelligent, beautiful woman capable of having her own opinion.

And for once, Lili Frond thought that perhaps she can have a piece of happiness, without bribery and lineage benefits.

* * *

**Lili! Oh, no doubt she's spoiled and arrogant and whiny, but she doesn't deserve all the hate and discrimination she gets, surely?**

**On another note, thank you to all my generous readers for your follows and kind reviews!**


	11. Decisions

**Fact: I apologize for being awfully inconsistent; I will sometimes post three stories in a week, then take a one-month break. It comes from having a very much hectic life outside of this site, but I _do_ try to deliver my best.**

**Disclaimer: Eoin Colfer is a mysterious, lurking creature, whom I have the unfortunate knack of not being.**

* * *

Tick tock.

The clock above him counted down with frightening haste.

"Make your decision, Fowl, I'm running out of patience," the elf said, with a sadistic grin. "And you're running out of time."

"Why are you doing this anyway?" Artemis shouted, grasping blindly at straws at his head. He needed more time to formulate a plan, and a quiet place to think.

But life is not fair, he got a ticking clock when he wanted time and a loud, pressing situation when he wanted some peace and quiet. He did not have time, this elf is as brilliant as him.

"Rotting in a prison cell gets _boring_, Fowl," the elf replied. "I'm just like you, a genius, except perhaps a tad more brilliant. Anyway, life gets boring.. without a little crime here and there to... _spice things up_."

Artemis tried to think again, urging the gears in his mind to whir, but he came up blank. The elf's plan was ingenious - almost like one of Artemis' own making.

"That's why you're a criminal as well, no, Fowl?" the elf asked. "So very _boring_, civilian life."

_This elf is insane,_ Artemis realised._ And that's why he's so dangerous. Other criminals at least had a priority to survive, or had a goal they wanted to achieve. He's just a lunatic! A genius, but an insane one, the deadliest one in the game._

"So what is it, Fowl?" the elf asked again. "The survival of all you Mud Men above the surface, or your dearest little _Captain_'s precious little life?"

Holly struggled in the capsule, clawing at the smooth, unbreakable glass. Artemis couldn't hear what she was trying to say, but it looked like a string of vulgarities. Her face was contorted with fury.

"The clock is ticking, Fowl!" the elf cackled, clasping his thin hands together with childish glee. As Artemis contemplated the situation to the best of his abilities, he couldn't help but muse that this elf was hardly the fittest of the lot either. He had a small frame, light and nimble, but weaker than stockier elves like Trouble.

"How can you be so sure that you'll only harm humans, and not other fairies?" he asked, trying to stall. Butler and the others have all been apprehended by his traps, Artemis thought. It had probably not been the best idea to move forward with Holly by himself.

"I modified the bio-bomb to suit a global scale, and tweaked around to have it only recognised Mud Men's genetical makeup," the elf shrugged. "And no, before you continue with your pathetic attempts to stall me, I'm not a hundred percent certain it will work according to plan. But that's the _wonderful_ thing about being deemed clinically insane: I don't really care."

Artemis thought vaguely Argon had finally made a right classification in this case. Above his head, "2:03" loomed menacingly, counting down in large block letters.

Two minutes to choose between the human race and Captain Short. Two minutes to pick, or they would both die. The elf no longer needed to remind Artemis of the slowly diminishing time, it was evident upon his pale face, drawn taut with anxiety, that he was all too aware of it.

Artemis was selfish, he'd admit freely, but he was also logical, rational and collected. His brain was screaming at him to pick the humans, to pick the survival of a race against one elf.

His heart was torn. Root would pick Holly. Foaly would. Mulch would. Trouble Kelp would. But would Artemis Fowl?

Perhaps this was why he had been the one to pass through the labyrinth with Holly successfully, instead of Butler, or Root, because he had been the only one capable of making such a decision. He was the only one that could push away what his heart was screaming, the only one able to temporarily delude himself that he didn't have one.

0:41. Tick tock.

He raised his head, ready to make his decision. Holly nodded, her lips pursed but her eyes shining with understanding. What was unsaid between them could be communicated through their actions alone. Her lips quirked upwards, as though she was amused by her own demise. He tried to smile, but found his eyes watering subconsciously.

Artemis pressed his hand against the outer wall of the capsule, and she mirrored his actions inside; a small brown hand pressed against a thin pale one, and a thick sheet of glass in between.

"Save the humans."

* * *

**Okay, depressing chapter is depressing. Yes, Artemis is selfish, but he is also far more rational and can sort through his thoughts well enough to know the priorities, unlike his fellow comrades.  
**

**Do review, I love reading them! & Don't forget to inform me of any typos/grammar mistakes I made in the fic.**


	12. Forgotten

**A big thank you to all the people that have reviewed on this fic! I apologise for the last chapter ending so depressingly. & a big sorry for my confusion with tenses, one day I was perfectly fine, the next I was spouting present-tense stories (which might work perfectly fine with other authors, but apparently not with me).**

**UNNECESSARY DISCLAIMER STATING I DO NOT OWN ARTEMIS FOWL IS UNNECESSARY.**

* * *

If there was one thing Minerva Paradizo had not expected, it was to be forgotten.

For three years, she anticipated the return of Artemis Fowl, imagining all the possible scenarios in her head. Other girls daydreamed about Prince Charming sweeping them off their feet, away from their boring lives. Minerva had a juvenile mastermind that had saved her life before vanishing mysteriously.

Artemis may have steered clear to avoid her, maybe she would have brought up unpleasant memories. Alternatively, Minerva also expected her expectations might fall disappointingly short if he _did_ make an attempt to talk to her; she _had_ set the par pretty high in her adolescent daydreams.

But _forgotten_? No, Minerva had been too self-important to anticipate that.

When Butler had called her up to say that Artemis had returned, haggard but otherwise alright, she had felt a helium-like elation, but as the days passed by, Butler called and conversed as regularly as before (Minerva had a nagging suspicion that he thought she might be _lonely_), but Artemis made no attempt to ring her up. She had wondered if it had been the first possibility - avoidance?

But after taking a flight to Dublin, seeing Artemis' shocked face as she rapped on their door, she realised that she was completely out of her game.

She had been _forgotten. _She was befuddled.

"Uh," she coughed. _Uh? Where is your dignity, Minerva Paradizo?_

"Hello there, Artemis," she said, quickly covering up her blunder with a genuine smile. "It's nice to see that you're back in town."

Artemis arched an eyebrow, and Minerva nearly palmed herself in the face. _Back in town? Really?_

"Yes, it's a pleasure to be back as well," he replied, courteous facade in place. Minerva nearly wished he would mock her with a vampiric smirk; she felt like one of the clients he felt obligated to pretend to be polite to. "What brings you to Dublin, Minerva?"

"A few business calls here and there," she replied nonchalantly. "I thought I would stop by and say hello to Butler and the twins, perhaps congratulate you on your recent return from the unknown."

Artemis raised an eyebrow again, but opened the door wider silently to let her in nonetheless.

"Butler is in the kitchen, the twins are in their room playing with their toys. Do you need help getting around?" he asked politely, yet his eyes kept straying back to his room in a way that reminded Minerva painfully that he probably had better things to do. Illegal businesses, probably.

"You can go if you'd like, I know the way around the mansion pretty well, I've been here quite often," she replied, striking him where she knew it hurt most, the guilt of being absent from his family's life for the past three years.

"Alright, thank you, Minerva," he said, maintaining his composure, but Minerva noticed with a guilt-ridden, triumphant smirk that he had winced a little before walking brusquely back to his room.

Minerva contemplated the shut door Artemis had just entered with a scowl.

It seemed to be taunting her.

_It was just a small crush, like he ever had feelings for you. You know how hormone-addled teenagers are like these days._

Minerva really hated that door.

Silently, she tiptoed towards his room and pressed her ear against the door, guilty expression in place.

"Who was that?" a female voice said, her voice distorted as though Artemis was using a walkie-talkie. Bad reception, perhaps? Unbidden, the feeling of jealousy weighed down on her heart. Artemis had skipped out on spending some time with her to talk to another person? A _female_ person?

"Minerva."

"Minerva? Really?" the voice asked, and Minerva wondered briefly how she knew about her. Had _Artemis_ told her?

"Yes, really," Minerva heard Artemis say, his void seemingly void of expression. "She said she was paying a visit to Butler and the twins."

The female (girl? woman?) snorted, and Minerva hated her even more in that moment; hated herself for feeling so strongly about someone she had never even _met_. "Didn't you have a humongous crush on her before Hybras?" the female inquired.

Dimly, the word "Hybras" set up a question mark in her brain, but the alarm bells in her mind had gone off, screaming the words _crush crush crush_.

"I was fifteen," Artemis said, his voice dismissive. "Not to mention completely romantically inexperienced." Minerva's heart cracked a little.

"You're still kind of fifteen," the voice replied, and Minerva frowned, wondering what that meant. "And you are _definitely_ still romantically inexperienced."

"It doesn't matter," Artemis said, his voice once more evasive and brusque. "It was just a silly crush."

"Whatever you say, Mud Boy," the voice snorted again, and Minerva slinked away from the door, breathing heavily as though she had been forced through another gym session. She leaned back onto the stairwell, sighing.

_Just a crush, just a crush, just a silly little crush._

Dully, she wondered if this was what the girls at school had dubbed "heartbreak".

* * *

**Minerva, who seems to be largely unpopular among people, surprisingly (and sadly, since I actually quite like her characterisation). But anyway, EOIN COLFER WHY YOU ABANDON YOUR SUBPLOTS. ****But seriously, she was just cast aside.**

**I like it when an author doesn't feel the need to resolve _all _the plot so there is _some_ ambiguity, but the lack of _any mention of Minerva_ after that one book was a very striking contrast.**


	13. Drugged

**In which the author is drunk on sugar and caffeine.**

**Disclaimer: A scientist might observe that although Eoin Colfer and I are both humans (most probably), we are certainly not alike in any other way.**

* * *

"Bubbles!" Holly screamed in horror, pressing her cheek against the wall of the room in attempt to get as far away as possible.

"They are advancing!" Mulch shouted, clawing desperately at the door.

The unlocked door.

Foaly snorted as the two of them tried to escape from the clutches of evil imaginary bubbles - right next to the exit.

"Why is Holly screaming?" Root asked, appearing at the centaur's elbow.

"Verbil put some weird drug in her coffee," Foaly said with amusement. "Thought it might make a good prank. Of course, Holly _did_ manage to punch him in the nose before the effects kicked in."

"And the criminal?" Root continued, squinting through the glass at the interrogator's room, where Holly had evidently managed to puncture all the evil bubbles, since they were now raving on about a nefarious genius - the coffee table.

"Stopped by again today and decided to nick Holly's coffee," Foaly explained, pressing his face onto the window in scrutiny as Mulch now began to scream about flying ponies as he charged on his "steed" - that is to say, Holly.

"Any lasting side-effects?" Root asked, tilting his head to a side. Holly had thrown Mulch off her back and was now trying to hug the ceiling fan.

"Not that the scientists knows of," Foaly shrugged. "And it's been tested a gazillion times, so it's harmless. If you want, I could always make them drink the antidote I managed to wrench from Verbil," he offered.

"Nah," Root said offhandedly, and the two of them continued staring through the glass for a moment (Mulch and Holly now thought that they were hiking Mount Kilimanjaro, reminding each other constantly to avoid the robot ducklings found near the tip of the mountain).

Silently, the two of them exchanged sideway glances.

They began sniggering.

Then guffawing.

Simultaneously, they took out their cameras.

* * *

**And since the author's sugar-and-caffeine-drunk, she decides to do similar for her characters as ****well.**

**Enjoy the LEP Headquarters fun.**


	14. Suspicion

**Disclaimer: Interesting fact; none of my initials are E. and/or C.**

* * *

"Trouble!" Holly said. "Trouble, Trouble, Trouble."

"Holly?" Commander Kelp asked, furrowing his brows. "Are you quite alright?"

"Of course she is!" Mulch said, appearing at Holly's shoulder. Trouble nearly jumped.

"That is, if you are," Mulch added, stroking his beard - as well as the rest of the hair on his head - for a better effect.

"I'm fine," Trouble replied, completely nonplussed.

"Then she is too!" Mulch said enthusiastically, shaking his hand as though sealing a business deal.

"What's going on?" the Commander asked, stepping back subconsciously until he was backed up against the wall of the office.

"What do you mean?" Holly asked, a faux-innocent look upon her face.

"You've been acting weird all morning! You kept leaving to go the toilet during the meeting, and then you and Mulch keep popping out of nowhere and trying to stop me from entering the Ops Booth," Trouble exclaimed.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Trouble," Holly said solemnly, the two of them still crowding around Trouble so he could not leave his position up against the wall.

"Are you sure you're feeling _perfectly fine_, Trouble?" Mulch asked, plastering on a concerned expression.

"I'm _fine_!" Trouble shouted, pushing them away. He was glad that most of the officers in the office had left for a lunch break, this was just embarrassing. "Now if you don't tell me what's going on _right now -_"

"Oh, Trouble," Holly sighed. "Trouble, Trouble, Trouble."

"Why do I feel like our conversation is going in circles?" Trouble asked, groaning as he stepped around them.

"You know what's your problem, Trouble?" Holly continued, as though she had not heard his outburst. "You never let any of your officers have any _privacy_."

"For Frond's sake, Holly, I'm the _Commander of the_ _LEP_!" Trouble shouted impatiently, trying to reach around them to the door of the Ops Booth.

"I have _rights_," Holly said loftily, flailing her arms repeatedly between him and the door.

"_Rights_?" Trouble echoed in disbelief, momentarily distracted from his persistent attempt of opening the door.

"Yes," she said, frowning at him as though in severe disappointment. "As a _citizen _of Haven, not just a Recon Captain."

"...Right," he said, before reaching around her - success! - and wrenching the door open.

Inside sat Artemis Fowl, talking calmly to Foaly as they drank coffee and had what appeared to be cake.

"_What is going on here_?" Trouble shouted in utter disbelief. Behind him, Holly and Mulch casted sideway glances at each other.

"Oh, hello there, Commander," Artemis said serenely, as though the disturbance was nothing but of a mere fly. "Want some cake? Caballine made them for Foaly, but there's quite a lot to go around."

Eyes widened in an almost comical manner, Foaly, Mulch and Holly immediately began trying to explain the situation.

"We never get to _see him_, Trubs, and it's not even the busy time of the year-"

"You smuggled a _Mud Man _into our city!" Trouble fumed, ignoring what they had to say. "It's called _Haven_ for a reason! It's supposed to be a haven from humans! And you just- you just _smuggle one in_?"

"Well, he's never seen the city," Holly explained. "And, as aforementioned, we only _do_ get to see him during our cases."

"_He's not even supposed to be on our cases!" _Trouble shouted, throwing his arms into the air with exasperation. "This is utterly ridiculous! I knew I shouldn't have taken the bloody promotion when Root offered it up. I knew there was something _fishy_ about it! I _knew_ it! He just wanted me to _implode_, having to _deal with all of you_-"

"I do believe all that stress might be bad for your health, Commander," Artemis noted, the only one still sitting down as he sipped at his coffee with his head tilted, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Shut up, Fowl, or we'll throw you to the wolves," Holly snapped.

Artemis mimed zipping his lips.

* * *

**Uh, I'm not entirely sure what happened with this one. Hmm.**

**I love all reviews and/or criticism, but unnecessary flaming is just what it is, unnecessary. Do tell me if there are any spelling/grammar mistakes made.**


	15. Snow

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my ceiling fan and my glasses.**

* * *

"Artemis," Holly whispered, pressing her face against the window with awe.

"What?" he asked absent-mindedly, punching in buttons on his laptop.

"It's _snowing_," she whispered, letting out a shuddering breath.

"So?" he said, eyes still fixated on the screen.

"Frond, I remember being a kid back in Haven, always wondering what it was like aboveground during the winter," she said, her fingers pressing tenderly onto the window with an expression of longing.

"Come on," she said, snapping out of her reverie and tugging at Artemis' sleeve.

"What?" he asked, finally turning away from his laptop and facing her with an inquisitive expression. Even then, Holly noticed he was looking distractedly at the monitor in his peripheral vision.

"Stop it," she said, snapping her fingers in front of his face.

"I'm in the middle of a business deal," he argued, furrowing his brows.

"The business deal can wait," she said firmly, crossing her arms. "It's _snowing_!"

"Again, _so_?" he asked incredulously, trying to return to his laptop and finish up his oh-so-important business deal.

Holly's left eye twitched.

A tell-tale sign for sure.

Artemis _really_ should have known better.

* * *

Half an hour later, they stood outside the Fowl Mansion, Artemis' left arm bruised and sore.

"Did you really have to do that?" he asked, rubbing his tender arm.

"You were being stubborn," she argued. The ground was coated with soft, crunchy snow and given a nearly magical atmosphere.

A snowflake dissolved on her nose, and her anger was temporarily forgotten as she looked up towards the sky with all the wonder of a child and the appreciation of a well-worn adult, one who had seen both the raw beauty of the world and its ugly horror.

She looked the epitome of innocence, yet exuded an aura of one who knew the terror of the world so well that its beauty was a gift well-bestowed. A contradiction, if Artemis had ever seen one.

Grinning slightly as he thought of an idea, he grabbed a fistful of snow in his good arm (thanking Frond that he was ambidextrous) and took a good aim at Holly's back.

His am was slightly off-target, and it hit Holly's shoulder instead, but it had the intended effect.

She swivelled around, her shocked expression warping into a mischievous grin as she crouched down to ball up some snow. The beauty of the moment was perhaps shattered, but the magical atmosphere the snow had cast upon the mansion grounds was far from gone.

She took a good aim and hit him straight on the forehead, chuckling as he staggered back a little.

Artemis recognised a skilled opponent when he saw one.

He was the more intelligent of the two, sure, but she was a trained officer with excellent aim.

He smirked.

The game was on.

* * *

**Snow! From the accounts I've heard, it's not really as pleasant as everyone makes it out to be, but I still like the idea of the soft, fluffy, white magical land I used to dream about as a child. ****Reviews are loved, criticism appreciated and unnecessary flames snorted at and extinguished. Do inform me of spelling or grammatical mistakes, as well as plot holes or flaws in character portrayals. **


	16. Surveillance

**Disclaimer: Eoin Colfer is a shiny unicorn that I am not. No, wait, scratch that, neither Eoin Colfer nor I are shiny unicorns, but I'm still not him (sadly).**

* * *

"Kelp," Mulch nodded in recognition as the stocky elf walked through the door.

"Situation at hand?" Trouble asked formally, taking a free seat and not bothering to greet the dwarf.

"Gee, nice to see you too," Mulch said sarcastically, raising a brow.

"I was in the middle of a mission when you called me about your so-called emergency, Diggums, so what is it?" Trouble asked, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Just hold on," Mulch said, switching on his computer and punching in some buttons. Not seconds later, Foaly's face appeared on the screen.

"What is it, criminal?" Foaly asked conversationally, sipping at a cup of tea.

"Some kind of emergency, the crook claims," Trouble piped up, squeezing in next to Mulch so Foaly could see his face.

"Ugh, Trubs, you're in that dingy place he calls a home?" Foaly asked, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"Unfortunately," Trouble agreed. "And don't call me that! It's Commander Kelp to you."

"Would you two stop bickering already?" Mulch asked. Trouble looked up, and saw that he had already left the corner of the room and was now sliding discs into the slot on his television.

"So a few days ago I was.. uh, investigating a case," Mulch said distractedly, trying to figure out what was wrong with his television.

"Ergo, you were aboveground, stealing something," Foaly said, raising an eyebrow.

"Shush," Mulch snapped, finally punching in the right button. "So I was near Fowl Mansion, and I saw something very peculiar-"

"What?" Trouble yelped, standing up from his seat and looking at Mulch with horror. "We gave specific instructions to _never go near Fowl Mansion again_ after he was wiped! What were you thinking?"

"Well, your beloved Recon Captain was there too, so don't judge," Mulch snapped. Trouble's jaw dropped even further. Even Foaly seemed to be at loss for words.

The disk loaded, and paused on the screen was the image of two figures, one short but with the proportions of an adult, another tall but with the proportions of a teen.

"I took a video," Mulch said quietly. Trouble turned the screen of the computer monitor so that Foaly could see the television screen properly. A few thousand feet away, a cup of tea was dropped and shattered on the floor of the Ops Booth.

Mulch unpaused the video.

The short figure with an undeniably familiar crew-cut was shouting at the raven-haired youth, but the video was blurry and unfocused.

She shook his shoulders next, and the camera managed to catch a snippet of the conversation.

"Don't you remember me, Artemis?" she asked desperately, a dirt-covered Recon officer clawing at a boy in an Armani suit.

The boy staggered back.

"No - who are you? What do you want? Butler!" he called desperately. Trouble wondered vaguely how exactly Holly had gotten Butler to leave his oh-so-precious principal alone for the moment.

"Come on, Fowl!" she said, still clutching at both his shoulders. "Don't you remember?"

Artemis was evidently trying to maintain his composure.

"Miss, I think you're severely mistaken. I'm not who you're looking for," he said, his voice sliding back into the familiar cold tone.

"You're Artemis Fowl the Second!" Holly shouted, throwing her hands up wildly. "You look three years younger than your chronological age! You have six toes on one foot! You have the highest-testing IQ in all of Europe! You told me once that sometimes you just want to be a normal teenager-!"

"That's enough," he snapped testily. "I don't know how you know all that information about me, especially my private information, but you are disturbing me and the residents of the village with your hysterics."

He walked away, shaking her hands off his shoulders indifferently. From the camera's angle, the three fairies could see his shaken face. All Captain Short could see was a leaving figure and the back of a head with ruffled black hair.

Her hands dropped to her sides.

The elf with copper hair dropped to her knees.

Back in a dingy room in Haven, a dwarf resisted an itch in his hand that told him to punch a certain Mud Man.

* * *

**Sorry if there are spelling/grammatical/logical errors; I don't have a beta.**

**Reviews and criticism much appreciated, unnecessary flames- well, unnecessary. **


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